When Liu Jinzhong uttered the word “stable,” it was already a very high compliment.
Jiang Fuyue continued reading.
Ten bullets. This guy hit the bullseye every single time, forcing his opponent into a cold sweat and trembling hands.
In the end—
“Old Yao, you lost.”
“Yan Zhixing, what are you, a mouse?!” D*mn, this guy really knows how to “burrow through holes”…
“A bet’s a bet. For the whole month, all our dorm’s underwear is now your responsibility.”
Old Yao’s face turned dark.
The crowd burst into laughter.
“Hey? Uncle Liu’s coming over—” someone with sharp eyes spotted Liu Jinzhong.
Everyone swarmed over to greet him.
“Morning, Uncle Liu!”
“Are you overseeing our training personally today?”
Chatter broke out—it was clear they had a good relationship with Liu Jinzhong.
Naturally, some also noticed Jiang Fuyue—denim jacket, skinny pants, clean-cut, a baseball cap covering half her face, shrouded in mystery.
But that wasn’t what stood out most.
What stood out was her positioning relative to Liu Jinzhong: she stood half a step ahead of him, while “Uncle Liu” willingly stayed behind her.
Now that… was subtle.
People began to speculate about her identity.
But Liu Jinzhong didn’t intend to explain.
At this point, the results came out—Yan Zhixing scored ten perfect hits, thoroughly crushing Old Yao.
“Alright, I admit defeat. A month of… that? Fine, I’ll take it all!”
“Brother Yao, you’re so manly!”
“You really went all-in this time.”
Yan Zhixing was all smiles and energy.
They say men are boys at heart till they die—he was a boy, full of youthful pride.
Suddenly—
“I’ll take you on.”
All eyes turned to Jiang Fuyue.
Yan Zhixing openly sized her up.
A woman?
And a skinny one at that, with slender limbs—she wanted to “take him on”?
Uh…
If it weren’t for the occasion, he might’ve misunderstood.
“You?”
Jiang Fuyue stepped forward: “What, you scared?”
Yan Zhixing scoffed twice: “Me? Scared?” His smile quickly disappeared. “Are you kidding me?”
Five minutes later, two figures stood straight at the parallel shooting platforms.
The man was tall and lean, with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and sharp eyes.
The woman was slender, with a waist that looked like it could be snapped with one hand. She stood casually, yet radiated commanding energy.
Yan Zhixing handed her a clear face shield.
Jiang Fuyue waved it off. “I don’t need it. Thanks.”
“You sure?” The gun had serious recoil.
“Let’s start.”
Yan Zhixing shrugged and took back the shield. Feisty one, huh? Fine, she’d find out soon enough.
“So, do we shoot simultaneously or take turns?”
Shooting together was the same method he used with Old Yao earlier.
Shooting one after the other meant using the same target, but with risk—if the first shooter hit the bullseye dead-on, the second would have no target left.
Yan Zhixing thought she’d choose simultaneous, but to his surprise, she picked “taking turns.”
Which brought up the question—
“Who goes first?”
Jiang Fuyue: “Either way.”
The man laughed—this girl wasn’t just arrogant, she was brainless. After seeing how he trashed Old Yao, she still said “either way”?
Fine then! No need to hold back. “I’ll go first. Don’t say I bullied you later.”
Jiang Fuyue smiled and stepped back, yielding the whole platform. “Go ahead.”
Yan Zhixing swiftly assembled the rifle, lifted it, aimed, fired—ten rapid shots, not a moment’s pause. His movements were crisp and efficient.
Jiang Fuyue stood to the side, observing every step with an appreciative gleam in her eyes.
On the final shot, the bullseye had already turned black and was even smoking, forming a scorched hole with only a red rim left.
“D*mn—Brother Yan’s amazing!”
“Ten shots and the target’s ruined.”
“Old Yao really didn’t lose unfairly.”
“Wait… there’s no bullseye left, what’s there to compete? This round’s already won!”
“Uh… aren’t we being a little mean? That girl looks so delicate…”
“Bro, don’t side with outsiders—we’re all Yan’s guys!”
“Right, right…”
“Is the pretty girl gonna cry?”
“Hard to tell—her cap’s covering her face.”
“Wait, she’s getting on the platform? Is she really gonna shoot? At what—air?”
Jiang Fuyue stepped up. Right in front of her was the same, thoroughly destroyed target.
Yan Zhixing wiped his hands and gave her a mocking shrug. “Oops—guess I went a little hard.”
Jiang Fuyue’s tone was calm. “It’s fine.”
Yan Zhixing: “?”
Where did this arrogant lady come from? Still pretending even now?
“Alright then, go ahead.” He gestured.
Jiang Fuyue didn’t hesitate. She went up, bowed her head, and began assembling.
Her movements were fast, yet graceful. Her long, white fingers swept across the barrel, locked in the magazine, and in a flash, the gun was up and ready.
She slightly turned her body—but without any obvious aiming—BANG BANG BANG—
Ten shots in rapid succession!
“Wait… she actually shot? But the bullseye’s gone.”
“Maybe it’s just for form? Like, losing the round but not the style?”
But right after that—
“Holy—she did shoot!”
“What just happened? Did anyone see clearly?”
“That was fast—might’ve even been faster than Brother Yan!”
“Are you serious?”
“Why didn’t I see her aiming?”
“You’re not alone. I didn’t either.”
“Just shooting wildly?”
“Hard to say!”
“Let’s wait for the target to come back, we’ll know then.”
…
Jiang Fuyue finished and stepped off the platform.
Just then, the conveyor started bringing the target back. “Well? What’s the result?”
Suddenly—a collective gasp.
“Hiss—no way…”
“This is real skill. Real mastery…”
Yan Zhixing, standing further back, hadn’t seen the target clearly. But hearing the commotion, his brows rose and he pushed through the crowd.
Then, he widened his eyes.
Her ten bullets had landed precisely on what little was left of the red rim—not one over, not one under—dead center, in the thinnest margin of error.
It was insane.
He spun around to look at Jiang Fuyue—his gaze now held not just scrutiny, but wariness.
She only hooked her lips in response.
Yan Zhixing’s face shifted.
He turned to look at Liu Jinzhong, trying to get a clue about who this person was.
But the latter kept his eyes half-lowered, giving no answers.
Now, chatter broke out among the crowd—
“She didn’t use the face shield?”
“Yeah, just earplugs.”
“That recoil control was unreal.”
“I thought her little arms would snap clean off—turns out she didn’t even flinch. Solid as a rock.”
“Who is she? A new instructor?”
Camp A had female instructors too—hot, skilled, top-tier.
“No idea. Gotta ask Uncle Liu.”
“Who’s gonna ask?”
“Don’t push me! If you’re curious, you go—I’m not sticking my neck out!”
Everyone started speculating about Jiang Fuyue’s identity.
She and Liu Jinzhong walked off before anyone figured it out.
“She… just left?”
“D*mn, I’m confused. What just happened?”
“Heh heh…” Old Yao sidled up, slapping Yan Zhixing’s shoulder. “Bro, I lost one round, you lost one round… how about we skip the underwear thing?”
Yan Zhixing gave him a dry smile. “Dream on. Two different things.”
“Hey! You lost too. Where’s your punishment?”
“We didn’t agree on anything before, so no punishment.”
“Come on, that’s not fair—”
“Alright, break it up. Time to get back to training.”
The crowd dispersed.
They thought it was just a brief moment—no one gave it much thought.
But after lunch training—
“Yan Zhixing! Come out, Uncle Liu’s looking for you!”
“Coming.” Yan Zhixing took off his sweaty shirt, grabbed a clean one, and put it on.
Outside the dorm, an electric transport cart was waiting.
Old Yao was already seated, waving at him.
Yan Zhixing got in, and the cart slowly moved across the lawn toward a small white building.
Old Yao: “Uncle Liu called you too?”
Yan Zhixing nodded. “Yeah. You?”
“Same! What do you think it’s about? You think we’re getting punished for what happened at the range?”
“No idea.”
Soon, the cart stopped.
They got out and entered the building, pushing open one of the doors.
“Uncle Liu—”
Heads lowered, they called out respectfully.
“Yes. The reason I called you today is…”
As Liu Jinzhong spoke, the two listened attentively—until they couldn’t help but glance up toward the desk.
Suddenly—they froze.
Seated in the chair wasn’t Liu Jinzhong—but that young girl.
And Liu Jinzhong was standing behind her, respectful, just like them.
